


Merge

by kannuki_neru



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (finally) resolved sexual tension, Hurt/Comfort, Insanity, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Will runs away with Hannibal, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:24:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4594503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kannuki_neru/pseuds/kannuki_neru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will decides to run away with Hannibal. </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>  <i>Hannibal's hands on each side of his face felt like they were going to leave fiery imprints behind. His hands were careful but insisting, not giving up even an inch of his skin if they could reach it. They were pressing down on him, trailing designs and cupping his face like a frame. His fingers became an enclosure of bones and Will's body was merging with them, turning into warmth and blood where they were cool and solid.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Merge

Hannibal's hands on each side of his face felt like they were going to leave fiery imprints behind. His hands were careful but insisting, not giving up even an inch of his skin if they could reach it. They were pressing down on him, trailing designs and cupping his face like a frame. His fingers became an enclosure of bones and Will's body was merging with them, turning into warmth and blood where they were cool and solid. 

Will thought of all the eyes those fingers had gouged out, going all way the down until they were dipped in the meaty tissue deep in the eye sockets. He tried to reconcile that with the way those same fingers were now stroking his skin, at times in a sweeping motion and then going back to a gentle rhythm of drumming and patting and smoothing out. He was like a canvas under Hannibal's hands and he was being prepared so that the paint would sink in deeper.

The thought felt strangely invasive until Will realized that Hannibal was only adding dye and colours to a painting that had already been there. Perhaps it was more like a carved image since he'd never been aware of its presence until Hannibal came along and skinned him alive, exposing all the ugliness and beautiful lines carved underneath.

There was a thick trail of red paint running inside him and completing the picture all at once wherever Hannibal touched him. 

Looking down at him with attention, Hannibal seemed pleased with how the painting was blooming, never once stopping his ministrations. He looked like he was torn between observing and drinking in the sight and sounds Will made and lapping them up as soon as they escaped his mouth. After a while he settled for the latter and Will's body spasmed involuntarily when Hannibal finally put his mouth on his. He wasn't inexperienced by any stretch of imagination and he was a little taken aback by how his spine arched painfully and his skin was burning. He wondered if he should pretend to be a little more in control of himself but thought better of it in the next heartbeat. Things like pretending didn't have any place between them anymore, not after all this.

A more rational part of his brain was chattering in the back of his skull, yelling at him and replaying the events of the last few days like an unnerving music box, a broken little ballerina spinning endlessly until he just wanted to snap her neck and put her out of her misery.

Even as he found himself taking Hannibal's outstretched hand he was wondering if he'd end up chopped up in neat pieces and find an early grave in the freezer of Hannibal's next impeccable residence as soon as Hannibal grew bored of him. It was a bitter fear but not completely irrational based on what he'd seen of the man so far. 

'I hope you understand this one thing, Will'

A voice brought him back to the surface, bubbles of air and heaving of lungs. He was staring back into impossibly dark eyes and never looked away as he waited for Hannibal's next words.

'Your decision binds us together. I've waited and given you a chance to retreat but you still chose to come with me, despite all and through all.'

'It didn't look like you were particularly keen on letting me walk away', Will whispered with a frown that apparently seemed amusing to Hannibal. He smiled and leaned down to lick at the side of Will's neck.

'You're right, I wasn't. I wasn't at all.'

Will's hand moved of its own volition and grabbed the back of Hannibal's head, keeping him against his neck. Hannibal tensed momentarily until he felt Will's fingers spreading to cradle his head, shaking almost imperceptibly. 

'Then all you have to do is never let me.'

He heard Hannibal chuckling into his neck and his hand snaked up to wrap itself around Will's wrist like a vice. He just couldn't understand how a touch could feel both gentle and like it was going to snap him in half like a twig.

'Do you suppose you'll find yourself keen on leaving, then?' 

Will's fingers on Hannibal's skull tightened and he turned over to one side slightly so that they could press even tighter together, in a strange and uncomfortable position that oddly felt like the only possible way for him to ever find sleep from now on. 

'Not at all', he sighed and Hannibal let go of his wrist to wrap his arm around Will's waist in a similarly steel grip. He inhaled Will's skin and their legs tangled, thigh against thigh and feet impossibly hooked over ankles. They must have looked strange from an angle, like they were trying out different ways to fold their bodies as close as they possibly could, Will thought idly and closed his eyes.

'Good', he heard Hannibal's voice as his face emerged from where it was buried against Will's collarbone and he crushed their lips together painfully. He would be sure to lick it all better after.

Will felt that he was drowning in a strange mix of misery and guilt, ardour and desperate hunger.

 

The eye of the storm was quiet though and soon he would find it, an impossibly and almost achingly burning heat crawling from one ribcage to another.

It was a haven smeared with entrails and thick with blood but he was at peace.

 

He was safe at last.


End file.
